Leasa's Accosted

Author’s note: This story was inspired by the sexy LeasaJ. While the story is fiction and fantasy, its genisis is of real life events.

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I loved those warm summer nights. I only lived a short distance from work in this small town, and I actually enjoyed walking to and from the office. My nightly stroll home, especially in weather like this, was the best part of my day. It afforded me time to wind down after a late shift of crunching numbers. At the same time, I got an occasional chance to take in a few privileged sights on the way.

I’m not a peeper, per se. I was as respectable and educated as the next family man in his late 20s. I would never have wanted to jeopardize that by giving in to such a perverted whim and going to jail or something. That would leave my wife and kids in the lurch, being related to a convicted sex offender, and a black one at that. No, I was just glancer, because a lot of eyes already were on me in this all white little borough.

There were times when I had seen barely dressed women or teenagers necking as I passed an open door or lighted window. But I never stopped walking. Oh, I enjoyed some of these views, but I had to be extra careful. We were the only black family in our neighborhood, so we stood out wherever we went.

I got off work at midnight and there was never anyone else outside, except for those times when a cop would ride by. I always got nervous when that happened. It would not have been out of the ordinary to get arrested for WWB – walking while black.

It was still a great place to raise a family. Most of the folk were simple, friendly, trusting people from the hard working middle class. It was nothing to walk past a house where the front door was left open all night while the denizens slept with dreams of a cool breeze sneaking in.

There was a house like that about a half a block from my home. Many times I had fantasized that the gorgeous, 30-something woman who lived there would be waiting at the door for me in stead of a summer wind gust. The closest I’d ever gotten to see her luscious body was one night when she was dressed in a flimsy, cotton house dress or shift and she was just opening the door as I went past. I slowed as the silhouette from the back lighting provided me what looked like a nude shape to fuel my imagination for later.

I knew I would definitely be pulling my tool in the bathroom over this one. That, too, had become part of my nightly routine. What can I say about my wife? She’s a great mother. My house is always clean. She’s a petite woman, so her pussy was always tight on those rare instances when she wasn’t too tired to roll over for me. Even then, she was too uptight for either of us to truly enjoy lovemaking. But those days were better than jacking off.

Something happened one night on the way home and it made me forget my concerns of being seen while glancing or being married.

Just as I neared her house, the silhouette lady was walking into her living room. She had a bottle and a glass in her hand as she parked herself on the sofa in front of the TV. I stopped in my tracks because the worn-out cotton housecoat she had on was completely unbuttoned. She sat on the left end of the sofa near the open door.

I couldn’t believe my eyes. Instinctively I grabbed my dick. In an instant it was like a rail, throbbing in sync with my quickening pulse.

As she flopped gap-legged onto the couch, her shift covered the nipple and half of one of her firm, C-sized tits. I assumed that it looked just like the exposed one whose bud poked out like a ripe raspberry.

Judging by the position of her slender legs, I figured she was around 5-foot-7 or so. I could make out relaxed muscle definition in her milky thighs, right up to the juiciest looking pussy I’d ever see. She leaned forward and poured from the bottle. I was standing under the cover of a large tree in front of her house. I slowly moved closer to her door, quickly and nervously glancing around the area to make sure I, too, wasn’t being watched.

I could see the bottle now – Yukon Jack. She downed the first shot and poured another as she sat back with the glass in her hand. I could only see her from the neck down. The door blocked her face from my view. She absently slid one foot onto the cushion while her empty hand fell lazily onto her bare thigh.

Her fingers were within a cum-drop of her thick pussy lips and the triangle of dark blonde hair atop them.

I don’t remember when I pulled my dick out and moved so close to her screen door that the end of my eight inches nearly touched the metal. I slowly massaged my thickness, partly because it felt good and I needed to control it from knocking on her door.

I noticed a marking on her left ankle, he one closest to me, propped close to her butt. I focused in on the mark and read the tattoo. It said, “Leasa.”

My new wet dream had a name. My dick twitched in my fingers. Leasa. I had seen her coming and going, wearing a white uniform. I wondered whether she was a nurse or something.

I was squeezing and stroking myself ever so slowly now. I was afraid to breathe or move too fast for fear that I’d give away my position.

I looked around again. There were streetlights at each end of the block. But their light could not penetrate the thick foliage that shielded me.

I looked back at Leasa just in time to see her gently stroking her outer pussy lips. She turned out the lamp beside her. Her pale skin seemed to glow under the flickering blue light of the TV. I couldn’t see the set, but it sounded like an old movie was playing.

I had to stop moving my hand or I was going to blow like a busted fire hose. I just held myself and watched. Her hand momentarily went toward her head, hidden behind the door, and returned to her pussy. One finger, followed by a second, went inside up to the first knuckles.

She just held them there. We both stood still with time before she moved again. I thought she was adjusting her seat, but she did it again, hunching her hips forward and enveloping more her knuckles. Her fingers were glistening under the TV lighting as she gradually fell into an in-out rhythm.

I had to do something or I was going to barge through her door and give her a mighty, one-stroke fucking, cumming before she could even yell.

Leasa’s fingers had picked up speed. Her butt was lifted off the cushions. I heard a muffled yelp and my heart stopped. Then I heard her sigh. Her thighs clamped around her hand and she settled back in her seat. Just like that, it was over for her.

I slowly backed away from her door, dick in hand. When I was safely past the corner of her house, I turned and walked briskly towards home, desperately stuffing my throbbing peter in my pants. I could hardly wait until I reached the intimacy of my bathroom and a handful of toilet paper.

I promised myself that I was going back there one night. By the time I got home, my dick was only semi hard. I had not cum, but my boxers were soaked in the front, and my mind was a bigger mess.

I had invaded that poor woman’s privacy. Did that incident make me a peeper? I didn’t think so. She didn’t know, but I gladly would have done all that work for her.

I was hoping this would be one of those nights that I could get a willing partner at home. I didn’t feel like arguing or sweet-talking. I just wanted to fuck something other than my hand.

It was late, but I turned on the TV and cranked up the sound. I went to the bathroom with the door open and flushed twice. All this was done to announce my arrival home, to wake her up before I stripped, slipped into bed and spooned up behind her. My boner was pressed between her cheeks, but she could not have felt it. Even in this summer heat, she wore long-legged pajamas. As I stroked her ass, I could feel her panties underneath.

Determined and undaunted, I pressed my body to hers. I brushed my lips on her neck and behind her ear as I slipped a hand around to cup one of her tiny tits.

Suddenly she stirred. She literally elbowed me, grabbed my tit-filled hand and pushed it away, mumbling something about being tired.

“Fuck this shit,” I said, slipping on a pair of gym shorts over my hard-on and walked to the living room. I could find some soft porn on cable TV; maybe beat my meat until I came. I planned to sleep right there when I was done.

Instead, I lit a cigarette and went onto the front porch. As soon as that summer night air hit me it brought images of Leasa’s fingers to my mind. I wondered what they would taste like now. I tossed the smoke and started walking back up that way, fully intending to walk right by her house. Her lights were out, but I saw the glow of the TV through a window. Her front door still was open.

Leasa was lying down with her head toward the door. Her gown was buttoned, but it had risen nearly to her waist as she had one knee bent and resting against the back of the sofa and her other leg was stretched out almost straight.

My life flashed through my brain as I considered what I was about to do next. I had not cheated on my wife in the five years that we’d been married. I knew that was about to change because of the scene before me. I would take Leasa by force if I had to. And since my dick was doing the thinking at this point, it appeared that I had to go in.

Like an invitation, the screen door was unlocked. I was wary of making any noise. As soon as I stepped inside, the cat leapt from the sofa. I was about to bolt back out the door, but Leasa had not moved.

Her breathing was deep and even, as she lay there, lifeless. Those beautiful breasts, somewhat flattened against her chest, rose and fell with each breath that she took. One arm situated across her flat stomach. The other dangled toward the floor just above her empty glass, which had fallen over. I noticed that half the Yukon Jack was gone.

This was going to be far easier than I had figured.

I knelt in front of the couch. If I was going to wake her up, it was going to be by tasting her. I leaned forward without touching to get a closer look at that delicious looking cunt. It was glistening with her labia splayed and engorged. I wondered how she had gotten so wet in her sleep. The musky aroma made my nostrils flare and my mouth water.

I picked up where her fingers left off, flicking my tongue up and down her slit a few times to test her awareness. Leasa did not move.

I was right. Her pussy didn’t just look good. The more I licked, the wetter she got, and the more I wanted – until she moved her hips.

I froze, my tongue tip about an inch inside her. After a second or three, she relaxed and settled down. I pondered whether I should cut my losses and leave now. My mouth, with my tongue still poked inside her, was salivating. Before I withdrew my tongue, I flicked her tiny clit about a dozen times and I felt a series of faint spasms of her cunt walls before I stood up.

The silence chose now to speak up. There was no sound from the TV. The screen was all snow.

I had to leave now, or pull my shorts down and fuck her. I looked down at the sleeping beauty, stepping out of my shorts.

Leasa sighed and bent the leg that had been straight, leaving her wide open for the imminent assault.

I stroked my throbbing member as it strained to jump right off my body. I wanted her too badly, and I wanted her to know.

I got on one knee between her legs and rubbed my dick once up and down her slick lips. I nudged the head in. I gritted my teeth to keep from shooting prematurely.

Still she slumbered. That would not do. I picked up my shorts from the floor. With my impatient dick still in position, in one move I threw the shorts over her face, grabbed both her hands and slammed myself into her like a bicycle without a seat.

She gasped, but she didn’t scream. Her legs tried to push me away, but my 6-foot-3, 200-pound body was too much resistance. As I held her wrists I could see her fingers scratching at air.

Her voice was trembling as she finally spoke, her body still quite rigid.

“Please stop.” She spoke with urgency, but it came out more like a squeak. “It hurts. Please, don’t do this. Don’t hurt me.”

I didn’t answer her. I kept my weight on her, but lifted my hips just a few inches. That left about five still embedded in her hot, wet pussy. The move made Leasa relax for a second and I took advantage. I rammed the whole eight inches back into her.

She gasped louder this time. “Stop. I’ll scream,” she squeaked.

“Just shut up if you don’t want me to really hurt you, bitch,” I hissed.

Leasa was obedient. Her body and muscles remained stiff while I kept myself buried to the hilt. I ground myself slowly into her, my pubic hairs agitating her clit. And she moaned. Her fingers stopped scratching the air and her legs flopped open, relaxed.

Slowly I pulled my dick out until just the head remained sheathed inside her. I was emboldened by the tiny whimper she let out.

“I’m gonna fuck you now, and you better like it,” I said with a stern growl. I started a slow in and out. I could tell that I wasn’t going to last long.

I picked up the pace and after about two minutes she was grunting on every down stroke. I felt her heel dig into the back of my thigh as Leasa began lifting her ass off the couch to meet my thrusts.